


Radioactive

by Dmonius



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmonius/pseuds/Dmonius





	Radioactive

To Peter a book store was merely a place of quite order, a place where wisdom and knowledge went hand in hand and of course a place where he would be able to spend some quality time with himself, without being interrupted by any costumed villain arousing at any moment; for this reason, he did not understand what a guy like this annoying blonde man, a few years older than him, did at his sacred place and complained about being here all the time.

Peter was sitting in a very comfortable armchair at a hidden corner of the natural science section in the book store and read in a book about the dependency of mutations on the evolution of the human beings, a great peace of work written by a C. F. Xavier. Even though it was not the scientific branch he was mostly interested in, he found the lecture deeply delightful and got curious with every line he read but if not for the young blonde man talking all the time, the reading would have been much more thoroughly done.

“When are you done, Reed?”, the blonde man asked the third time.

“When I am done”, his companion, an older man in a gray trenchcoat, answered the second time. “Why did you come with me anyway?”

“If I had known before what you understand under a 'short and funny trip to the mall' I would have stayed at home, Reed, I can assure you. What are you looking for?”

“I'm looking for the Einstein biography – I lost my copy during the honeymoon with Sue and right now I'm not able to find it either”, Reed answered.

“You can find it on the other side of the shelf, Sir”, Peter said. The odd glances he received made him feel quit uncomfortable; it occurred to him that he had indeed shown that he was listening to their – even tough not private – conversation, but the guy named Richard nodded and smiled at his direction and said: “Thank you.”

Suddenly, it struck him who these guys were – Reed, Reed and Sue, Reed Reeds, Mr. Fantastic stood only two meters ahead whereas Johnny Storm – the Human Torch – leaned against a shelf on Peter's right. Only for a second, his eyes widened but then, remembering that he was also a superhero, he smiled back and returned to reading his book.

At the next page, the chapter he had started to read half an hour ago ended, so he laid the book on his knees and tried to make a look at his purse only to learn that this book had to appear on the non-existing and never-ending list of things he wanted to be his Christmas presents. Meanwhile, Reed Richards, holding the biography in his hands, took a glance at the book lying on his lap and smiled again.

“Serious reading,” he commented. “Xavier is not know for his easy language.”

“Yeah, sure, but once you understood what he wants to tell you, it becomes pretty easy, I must say,” Peter said.

“You're going to college?” Richards asked.

“Not yet but next year. I'm still in high school.”

“A high school student reading stuff written by Charles Xavier? What are you? Richard's clone?” Johnny had a rather skeptical look in his eyes and folded his arms as he seemed to inspect Peter any further.

“Not as I know it,” Peter said, watching at the Human Torch. “But it's never to late to do something for your general knowledge even if you are only seventeen years old.”

“Well, I'm an astronaut, kid. There's more important stuff for me to know.” Johnny storm blinked his eyes but Peter's face did not move and he looked at Richards instead who nodded and smirked and then replied: “I think, he's far out of the age where this would really impress him, Johnny. Well, we have to go know – by the way: what's your name?”

“I'm Peter, Mr. Richards. Peter Parker.”

“I'll keep that in mind for later,” Richards said.

Johnny smirked at Peter, put his arm on his shoulder and added: “Me too.”

***

A few weeks later, Peter had almost forgotten about the strange encounter he had with the two leading members of the Fantastic Four but still regretted that he had not dared to ask for an autograph when they appeared on the news last evening; if one day they would found about who Spider-Man really was, showing the autograph would somehow have been the right kind of joke.

Now, leaving high school and entering the house where he and Aunt May lived, his thoughts went to the encounter and back to school, to the encounter and back to school, from Johnny to Harry, from Johnny to MJ and back to Johnny again. Aunt May, noticing the absent glances he kept having all the time, looked at him rather slyly from her part of the kitchen table and asked: “What's on your mind, Peter?”

“Nothing,” he replied and looked at the biology textbook lying on the kitchen table, starting to re-read the paragraph about pomaceous fruits he was supposed to hold a presentation about. “Except these fruits, I mean.”

“Is this the reason why you continue to read the first paragraph over and over again?”

“How can you know that?”

“I'm making guesses,” she said. Then, she added: “And I know you. What's on your mind, Peter? You've grown so odd, sometimes.”

Peter looked into her sorrowful smile and closed the book. “It's nothing, Aunt May.”

“Is it MJ again?”, she asked, insisting on being given an answer before the evening was over.

“No,” he replied truthfully and started helping her cleaning the vegetables for the evening dinner.

“Then I hope that it's not something I have to worry about.”

“You're worrying all the time, Aunt May, do you know that?”

“Of course.”

The minute passed, then another and then a third, the clock being the only reminder of the time passing by at any moment. Peter remembered the encounter at the bookstore again and asked: “Do you know what I wish to be my Christmas present?”

“Another odd book by a scientist whose name I can barely pronounce?”

“No...this time, his name's pretty easy, I can promise you.”

***

The day before Christmas, with snow having fallen down on New York City, Peter usually started to go on looking for a present for Aunt May. As usual, he did not really have a clue of what to give his aunt on Christmas which was the reason Harry had to accompany him all the time. Now they had made a short break at the Central Park and Peter stated thinking about returning home.

“Why can't you just buy her a piece of jewelry? She's a woman, she'll like it, I'm sure,” Harry said as he did all the years before.

“For the same reason I'm not wearing clothes bought at Hollister, Harry,” Peter said, sighing helplessly. “I can't afford the money. It's a simple present, nothing more.”

“How about a book?”

“I give her book every year – I want to hit her expectations.”

“She's not your girlfriend, Peter.”

Peter sighed and sat down on a bench. They had reached the other end of the park and could already hear cars rushing by. “What do you give to your father by the way?”

“Nothing. You can't find a present for a man who has and owns everything.”

“Maybe something humble, it has to be a gesture uncle Ben always said.”

“A shawl?”

“For your dad? Even I find that a little bit ridiculous.”

“For your Aunt, Pete.” Harry rolled his eyes and smiled at him helplessly. He stretched himself and laid his arm on the back of the bench in close distance to Peter's shoulders as if he were trying to put his arm around him. Peter did not feel uncomfortable but his plans of laying back were off the table the moment Harry decided to make his move. He did not know whether Harry really intended to put his arm around him but the awareness of its presence there made him unsure how to behave.

Suddenly, the sound of people screaming freed Peter from thinking about the meaning of his best friend's gesture; they looked at the small bank on whose entry a masked guy with a gun had appeared. He shot in the air and had taken a young woman, apparently a bank assistant, hostage.

“Let me go – or this women will die!” the guy shouted; Peter found him way too dramatic and was already looking for a hidden place to turn into Spider-Man – the costume serving as an additional layer underneath his clothes. Nevertheless, Harry pulled him away from the whole spectacle and deeper into the Central Park.

“I don't want to stay here,” he shouted and pulled harder but Peter did not obey.

He broke away from his friend and started to run closer to the bank, where the people had remained standing and screaming at the spectacle; as Peter could see, the young hostage had started to cry whereas the hostage-taker, holding a bag full of money in the right hand, pointed the gun all around the place to keep them at bay. Peter could already hear the sirens of the police but they were a long way off.

Standing a few meters away from the shocked crowd Peter looked around again to find a place for undressing and found a small alleyway that seemed perfect for his purpose but before he could started running, a hissing sound drowned the screams and he saw a red fireball smashing at the bank robber's face. The moment he fell back, a burst of flames appeared on top of him and took a humanoid shape; Peter, too dazzled to react, saw how the figure of flames enclosed the gun, threw it at the bank and pulled the young woman back. At the moment she started to scream again, the flaming figure reshaped into a young blonde fellow who wore a blue suit with a classical “4” on his chest. He knocked the robber down and then turned towards her, pulling her close and smiling at her.

The crowd, as Peter too touched for screaming, started to applaud and shout the name of the hero who had rescued the woman: “The Human Torch is here!”

The Human Torch had appeared – Johnny Storm had appeared.

***

The moment Johnny had been able to give the man into custody of the police, he started looking around to find Peter Parker again. Usually, he would have waited for the press conference but Sue had already arrived and she would handle the rest of the mess perfectly well.

Sneaking about the street and the close Central Park he remembered how he heard the distress call and decided to act. The moment he flew to the bank, his attention got elsewhere because he saw Peter Parker running towards the bank. He did not really understand why Peter was trying to get _close_ the danger when the only thing sounding logical was getting _away_ but to see this young fellow again made Johnny's heart jump much faster.

He entered the Central Park, looked around again and finally found Peter with another young man his age. Both sat on a bench and as Johnny approached them, they were having a short discussion.

“Why did you ran?” Peter's friend asked. “That did not make any sense, Peter!”

“Yeah, I know...I...I...” Peter sighed and looked away with a wry look on his face as if he had something uncomfortable to think about. “By the way, Harry, you are not my mother.”

“Hello, there!” Johnny said straightforwardly. He put forth his hand and smiled at Peter.

“Who the hell are you?” Peter's friend asked.

“Don't you see the news?” Johnny asked back. “I'm Johnny Storm, the Human Torch...Fantastic Four, you know for sure.”

“Well, then the question must be – what the hell do you want here?” the friend asked.

“We know each other,” Peter said and reached out for Johnny's hand which he pressed with unexpected force. “Nice job, Mr. Storm.”

“Call me Johnny. What were you doing there? I saw you running to the bank.”

“I wanted to help. The situation looked kinda dangerous and I fought about assisting...”

“Aren't you a little bit to young to play hero?” Johnny asked and blinked.

“What do you want?” Peter's friend seemed to be quite uncomfortable with Johnny standing here and the Human Torch reacted to his peevish look with a very friendly smile.

“Ehh...may I introduce you? Johnny, that's Harry Osborn...Harry, that's obviously Johnny Storm.”

“Osborn? As in Oscorp Industries?”

“Obviously, yeah...” Harry replied rather slyly.

“Nice to meet you! Your father and my future brother-in-law had some business together. They have been working on some device that could transform...”

“Well, Mr. Storm,” Harry said. “I think we have to go...”

“Yeah, Aunt May still needs her Christmas present. Johnny, nice to meet you again. I think we will at the next bank robbery, I'm pretty sure,” Peter said and winked.

He and his friend broke off and Johnny winked back to the two students who walked along the long footpath. “See ya,” Johnny said.

Johnny scratched his head and watched the pair heading off the bench and becoming smaller and smaller. Then, he turned around and said his remarkable phrase:“Flame on!”

He lifted into the air and started to fly into the direction of the Baxter Building, still regretting that he did not offer to give Peter Parker an autograph, something, he would surely do next time.

***

The one thing Emma Frost liked about being a telepath was the fact that she could listen to any conversation in her vicinity without most people actually noticing her presence in their mind and their talk. It was something that happened naturally, and she had got used to it over the years of experience as a teacher at Xavier's institute. Not being able to shut the eavesdropping down sometimes was certainly a bad part of this gift she received but now, as she stood at the wardrobe and followed the shop assistant’s gossip, two actual superheroes entered her range. Even though she hadn't met the mind profile of Johnny Storm and his sister Susan Storm beforehand, the attention the Fantastic Four received from the various people as they entered the store made it very easy for Emma to catch the two superheroes.

Emma sat down on the chair in her wardrobe and closed her eyes to fully concentrate on the two superheroes – if she didn't, the eavesdropping would only be ineffective, shattered. Fortunately, Reed Richards was often considered to be a genius but – much to the White Queen's pleasure – he proved unable to provide his two teammates with a device to shut out a telepath. This was a chance, Emma surely did not want to miss.

The two heroes went through the store, accompanied by an astral projection of Emma's, and gathered clothes, until they resumed their walkthrough on a wardrobe at the other side of the store. Emma noticed how … occupied their thoughts were, Susan Storm thinking about Reed Richards and Johnny Storm about someone different, someone he kept shut down in his sub-consciousness.

“I am not so sure, Sue,” Johnny Storm said as he came out of the closet wearing a red tee. “This tee looks just like the thirty I have in my garderobe.”

“Then I must remind you of the many tees you keep burning off...and that I think red suits you,” Sue Storm insisted. “What about the blue one, anyway?”

Emma looked through Sue's eyes and felt the urge to disagree with her taste wholeheartedly. For a young, handsome and blonde fellow as Johnny Storm red wasn't a suitable color – white would of course be fitting him perfectly.

“What about a white one?” Sue asked suddenly. “It would be fitting you perfectly.”

Emma didn't care about the telepathic remark that worked its way into Sue Storm's mind, a side effect of her constant concentration. She focused on Johnny Storm, her curiosity pressing on his mind to know who he was thinking about. Of course, she'd never tell him but he was doing quite an impressive job at keeping her out of his memories. A nice task for the next lesson at her class of telepaths – try to enter Johnny Storm's mind.

“White? Well, I am not sure about this red – but this tee would suit Peter,” Johnny said.

Peter. Emma perceived images, voices and memories of past events, that all had to do with Peter Parker. As Johnny turned as red as the tee he as wearing and Sue's curiosity grew to an extent that it could even outmatch Emma's, Emma got to know that the Human Torch's heart had fallen on a young high school student, probably six or seven years younger than him – something that would cause a scandal in the world of costumed nerds. Of course, this moment of revelation was a very short one, as Johnny closed all memories on Peter Parker. Nevertheless, Emma's constant pressure did indeed have an impact.

Emma started to work on the two heroes, making the name Peter vanish in Sue and forcing Johnny to carry on the conversation as if nothing had happened. Emma did never had any confrontation with the Fantastic Four but what she heard of the other X-Men, Johnny Storm was never at a loss for words – right now, he seemed to be lacking much more self-confidence when it came to this particular boy.

“So you wanna buy it?” Sue asked.

“Mhh...maybe in a smaller size?”

“It already fits...but it's your money, not mine.”

Now, Emma – as much as she would have enjoyed watching Johnny Storm's perfect body a second time – felt the need to leave the two heroes alone. As she put on her white jacket and walked out of her own wardrobe, she crossed their way before she reached the cash desk and blinked as her eyes met Johnny.

 _The tee would suit Peter perfectly well_ , she assured him telepathically but was out of his sight as he noticed that the beautiful blonde woman whose path the crossed moments ago had sent this message. Emma walked down the mall – her white dress and mantle falling behind her as she entered the outer area where rough winds did shake the darling buds of roses at the end of the balcony. Rogue, Kitty and Ororo were still at the H&M so she...

“Miss Frost – what a pleasure to meet you here!” Emma heard a familiar voice addressing her.

She turned around and saw Norman Osborn, accompanied by his young son Harold or Henry. She and the owner of Oscorp had met before, never at Hellfire of course, but Emma still had her past at New York's high society and responded to Norman Osborn's artificial smile with a sweeter and friendlier one.

“Norman Osborn – the pleasure is mine, old friend. What are you doing here?”

“My son wanted to spend an afternoon at town to buy some new things,” Osborn said. “New clothes, the newest Apple invention – I think you can imagine. You're teaching right now, aren't you?”

“Hello, Mr. Osborn junior – Emma Frost, nice to meet you.”

Emma reached out her hand; Henry hesitated for a moment but the strict glance his father sent to him made it impossible for him not to reach out and take the hand of the White Queen. She pressed his hand and blinked at him as she did to Johnny Storm without bothering about Norman. She tried to enter his mind but – even though not acquired by wit instead of money – he had found a device to keep her out. Never mind – she entered Henry's thoughts for a moment and learned that his name actually was Harry. Harry Osborn – again someone who also tried to suppress certain thoughts. She sensed that he felt the need to look on his mobile phone; he thought about getting a text message by a boy called Peter, Peter...Parker? No – chances were quite low in that perspective.

“What's this school like you currently teach at, Emma?” Norman asked, nevertheless he knew that she was teaching young mutants how to use their power. The rules of small talk worked fine and properly in his conversational style. “Would this be a school for my son?”

“I don't want to leave my school, Dad, I told ya so.”

 _Because I want to stay with Peter_ , Emma read in his mind. She smiled reassuringly and straightened her clothes before she sent out a signal that would force Harry to look on his mobile phone and then answered to his father: “I'm sorry but we're a school for Gifted Youngsters and Professor Xavier is very strict when it comes to the applications of new students.”

“Gifted Youngsters? Well, that's … not my son,” Norman said with a dark undertone, seeing how his son looked at the cell. Then, he smiled and added: “Harry, what is the name of your friend again? Peter Parlor?”

“Parker, Dad. His name's Peter Parker.” This phrase made Emma's attention and her focus on the young heir grow even more without her showing anything on the outside. “I think your Professor Xavier would like Peter, Miss Frost. He currently reads on of his works about genetics – he's our little brain, you know, and is smarter than the whole high school.” Emma sensed how Harry felt a sense of pride but also a deeper affection...and attraction towards this boy as she had felt within Johnny Storm. And of course the sadness that his friend hadn't answered the text message.

“Peter Parker? I'm certain that's a name I should keep in mind for later,” Emma said but silently asked herself, while smiling gently and calm, if any young man on earth simply turned...gay. _That_ would be a question her telepathy class could work on.

***

“Harry, that's impossible,” Peter said.

“Oh, come on, Peter. It is not. You want it – I want it. So why bother?”

“Harry...no, I couldn't tell my aunt...I couldn't tell anyone.”

“Why?”

“It would make me feel ashamed.”

“Ashamed because your best friend just wants to please you?”

Peter winced and turned his back on Harry to look out of the wide pane of the window he always envied his best friend for, as he envied Harry for many other things...the villa, the money, the fact that he _had_ a father figure left in his life...

Harry suddenly stood next to him, only a mere centimeter apart. He hold the present in his right hand which he opened so that Peter could see it once again.

“You want it and I am more than pleased to give it to you, so, come on, Peter.”

“Harry...I can't. It's yours.”

“I beg you!” Harry cried out. “I'm one update ahead of the model that hasn't currently reached the market. You'd love to have one of these, so don't bother with getting one.”

“And I'm out of money to pay for the thing even if you give it for nothing.”

Peter knew that Harry would be rolling his eyes the moment he uttered this sentence. Harry grabbed his right knuckle and opened his hand by force; he laid the iPod on his hand and then closed it tentatively. “I did never use it and if your aunt can't even afford a notebook, at least this should be in your property.”

Peter sighed and laid the iPod touch on Harry's sheet. He turned around and made a step closer to the door, then another and a third. “You know,” he started. Then, he looked right at the model one update ahead of the version currently on the market or so (which isn't used by Harry, either), quirked and said: “It's just...well...I do not even have enough music to play on this ridiculous little thing, Harry.”

“You can also put books on it, that's not the problem. Look, why don't you just take him with you and...”

“Harry!”

“I am more than sure that it's not about the music, Peter,” Harry said and his voice reached the dark undertone his father usually achieved when he talked about his son to other people – including Peter.

 _No, it is not_ , Peter said as if there were someone hearing his thoughts. _It is because of the simple fact that you own all these things and can't measure them and my aunt and I have to move out of our house in a few months. It is because I really want your pity and it is because Uncle Ben taught me that there with great pity pride is always an important matter. It is because I know that you are doing this because you want more than my friendship and because I do not know whether I could give it to you or not. It is because..._

He didn't say these things. He simply left the Osborn mansion without another word and turned into Spider-Man only a few moments after he found a suitable place to transform.

Now, he was flying through the air of New York City, shooting webs at the skyscrapers and making his way through the city of his origin. Most certainly, Aunt May was already expecting him to arrive at home even though he mostly was driven home by Harry's chauffeur so coming in a bit later wasn't the matter. As he reached the Central Park, he landed on top of the bank that had been robbed a few weeks ago.

The snow wasn't melting right now but the temperature reached a point where you are able to stand still for at least a few moments to breathe and listen into the night. That was the thing Peter really liked about being Spider-Man, the chance of being lonely without having the stress of high school and his own social life. His thoughts returned to Johnny Storm, the Human Torch he had met again at this place; he decided to take a look at the Baxter Building he'd never seen before.

As he put his hand into the air to shot a new twine of web he felt an aching pressure in his head and his muscles and lost the hold of the web. He was not able to move and fell down on the top of the bank – darkness being the only thing he could see. Darkness...and a glistening spark of light.

***

Due-to the convenient fact that the Baxter Building was positioned next to a subway station the same name, May Parker did not mind having to wait at the lobby until Susan Storm arrived. Miss Storm left the elevator a few moments after May had announced her arrival at the reception. Sue was a fine young woman. She was not wearing the blue dress May had most recently seen her with on the TV but a nice white blouse and a jeans, approaching her directly.

“Miss Parker, I am glad that you made it,” she said and put forth her hand. “I am Susan Storm.”

“May Parker, nice to meet you. Now, show me my nephew,” May insisted directly.

“Of course, follow me please.”

“Would you mind explaining me again why my nephew is currently a … guest of Baxter Building?” May asked. “I was very … aghast and Mr. Richards was so hectic on the Phone that I did not really understand. Your brother found him, right?”

As they've reached the elevator, Miss Storm started to retell the story: “My brother was out last night, making a short walkaway in the vicinity of Baxter Building when he encountered your nephew next to Central Park, lying unconsciously in the snow. Lacking a better address he brought him back home where Reed and I took care of him.”

The elevator reached number seven. May asked: “What was...is...wrong with Peter?”

“We are not so sure what happened to him, Miss Parker, although Reed insisted that I shall assure you that he is fine and under supervision. Do you know what he was doing there at this late hour?”

“One of his friend called me this morning, being worried after Peter didn't make it to school. I was about to call the police all by myself. Peter was with him that evening and Harry – that's the friend's name – told me that they had a misunderstanding about something, so Peter decided to return home on his own. Actually, he didn't make it and Harry has a real bad conscience, allowing Peter to go out without being driven by the chauffeur.”

“I see,” Susan Storm simply said. Now, they had reached number 30, the level where the Fantastic Four had their headquarters and the doors slid aside. Max expected anything in a place where the World Superheroes' First Family lived but suddenly seeing Ben Grimm, the _Thing_ , on the other side of the lift made her old heart jump a little faster than as usual.

“Hello, Ma'am, Hi, Sue. Mind if I use the lift now?”

“No, Ben. Where's our guest and Reed anyway?”

“Reed and Sp...the boy are at the infirmary...and Johnny's with them, anyway. See you later, Sue...have a nice day, Miss...”

“Parker. May Parker,” she introduced herself and nodded at the nice Ben Grimm. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Mr. Grimm entered the lift and went above whereas Sue Storm led May a short way to the infirmary where they were approached by a nice blonde man – obviously Johnny Storm – who was a few years older than Peter and Mr. Richards, the one May spoke with on the phone.

“Ah, Mrs. Parker, my pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Richards said. “That's Johnny Storm, also known as...”

“The one and only Human Torch,” Mr. Storm said abruptly and grinned. “You are Pete's aunt?”

“Yes, I am. The name is May Parker. You know him?”

“Actually...we met him at a book store once,” Mr. Richards admitted.

“And I met him at a bank robbery,” Johnny Storm added.

“At a bank robbery? I hope my nephew wasn't involved.”

“Ehm, no, we...,” Johnny storm said but was interrupted by his sister who asked whether May wanted to see her nephew.

“Of course. Guess that's why I am here, right?”

Mr. Richards led her into the infirmary where Peter was lying unconscious in a large bed, connected to several monitors that measured his brain waves, heart beat and some other things May was unable to identify.

“He is all right?”

“My measures say so, even though Sue is the biologist in our foursome and she said he's all right. Should I wake him up?”

“Please do so.”

Mr. Richards went to a computer that was positioned at the end of Peter's bed and made some very quick movements before May's nephew finally opened his blue eyes. He closed them again one moment, then lifted himself up and touched himself at his forehead as he sounded off a tired moan.

“Hello, Peter,” May said.

“Aunt May? Where am I?”

“Right now, you are at Baxter Building,” Mr. Richards said.

Peter opened his eyes one more time and fixated all of them – starting with May, followed by Mr. Richards and Susan Storm and finally laying his eyes on Johnny Storm. Then, he looked at his hands and the various cables that connected him with the monitors all around the place. He looked at May again, Mr. Fantastic and last but not least Johnny Storm again.

“I can't remember properly...why am I here?”

“Johnny found you last night as you had some kind of breakdown while you were on your way home. He decided to bring you here, so...”

“...that you would be taken well-care of in the loving hands of my dear sister,” Johnny Storm said.

“What...kind of breakdown? I can hardly remember.”

“We are working on that,” Mr. Richards assured. “But we do know nothing for sure. We would like you to stay here for at least a few more days so that we are able to do some tests on you, if neither of you objects.”

“I feel fine,” Peter said. “I can go home anytime.”

“Well, Mr. Richards, to be honest, I am not so sure whether we can really afford such a checkup here at Baxter Building. I wouldn't mind moving Peter to a normal hospital...”

“Well, Mrs. Parker, you can be sure that there will be no payment required,” Mr. Richards assured.

“We see it as a kind of research,” Susan Storm added.

“We wouldn't be that great heroes if we didn't take care of a nice young fellow as your nephew, Mrs. Parker,” Johnny Storm said. He smiled at May in a very warm and light way. “He can stay as long as it is needed.”

“So....Peter...I think you will stay here for at least two nights at the hospitality of Baxter Building...,” May said, even though not that well convinced. She turned her head to Peter and smiled at him. “I will go home and get you some clothes, okay?”

“I am sure my brother can give you a lift to your place, Mrs. Parker,” Susan Storm said and May saw that Johnny Storm seemed to be more than willing to do so. It was so indeed that he was a really nice fellow.

“No, I will go myself,” May insisted, went to Peter and laid a short kiss on his forehead. “He usually goes to bed at ten, night's rest usually starting half an hour later. I will phone Harry so that he can e-Mail your homework. By the way, you have an A- in your literature paper.”

“Wow,” Johnny Storm said. “I've never had an A- my whole life! What topic?”

“Dystopian fiction,” Peter said without noticing the compliment. “Not my favorite theme, by the way...I prefer the life sciences.”

“So what's your usual mark there? A+?” Johnny Storm asked.

“Mostly, yeah...but no big deal.”

Johnny Storm shook his head and turned to Mr. Richards, pointing his index finger at Peter: “I knew right from the beginning that they cloned you, Reed! He's lying right...there! He must be some kind of intrigue Doc Doom is currently working on.”

***

Only mere minutes after Aunt May had left the Baxter Building, Peter's uneasiness returned and he waited for one of the Fantastic Four to come into his room. As soon as he had found his costume lying under his bed, he had been thinking about hiding, escaping or even killing the four superheroes who knew his secret identity.

“Yo, Spidey,” Johnny Storm said as he entered the room. “I think not to tell your aunt who her beloved nephew likes to impersonate at night was the right thing to do, ain't it?”

Peter nodded and then said: “It's not that impersonating Spider-Man is a bad thing if you actually are Spider-Man, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.” Johnny showed this cunning smirk when he sat down on the other end of Peter's bed and looked around the room. “Sue said that she wanted to do some analyzing on your genome. They think that you are a mutant or something like that.”

“I do not have a mutated X-gene, if that's what they mean.” Peter's uneasiness left, he started to breath calmly and smiled at the Human Torch.

“I do not really know what they mean. If your sister and your brother-in-law are real geniuses you learn when it's the right time to nod.”

Peter laughed. “I wish I could tell Harry about this weird stuff.”

“Your boyfriend right?”

“He's not my boyfriend!” Peter said with an insistence even he found surprising. “Well...I mean...well...uhm...nothing.”

“I see,” Johnny said. “You're a completely straight male?”

“I wish it were that easy.”

“Well, if you don't mind...how about getting a bite to eat?”

***

“Reed, you wouldn't believe what I saw a few moments ago,” Sue said as she entered Reed's laboratory where he was stretched over three meters in order to work on five different computers on the genetic analysis of Peter Parker's genome. She had told him that her work was complete but he couldn't refuse to use his recently enhanced analyzer.

“Johnny has finally been able to wash the basin after he used it?”

“No. But I think Johnny may have a crush on Spider-Man.”

“Don't be ridiculous. He's a nerd and Johnny's one of the cool ones. By the way – did you ever consider your brother to be bisexual?”

“Of course. But that's not everything. There is something about Peter that I can't really remember. I never met him before he became our guest but I am sure that there was an instance where I noticed Johnny's crush on him...I can't remember properly.”

“Maybe it wasn't something important?”

“If it hadn't been important, it wouldn't be still there in my sub-consciousness, would it?”

“Well...speaking about sub-consciousness...Never mind. You have a point there, I suppose. By the way – nice tee Peter is wearing.”

“Obviously.”

***

“So, as Namor pushed me underwater and prevented me from flaming on, I had no other choice but to grab behind his neck and pull him with me. Of course, I started noticing then that _underwater_ he was the one who even more had the advantage. We started wrestling for control until I was able to punch him unconscious. Well, Sue lifted us up with her force fields then and started intermediating...”

“Didn't you have a need for … air as you fought Namor underwater?” Peter asked.

“Well...as you mention it...no, I didn't. Nevertheless, I can say that I have been really happy that Sue brought me back to air,” Johnny admitted.

They both were seating in a sort of living room above the infirmary. Ben Grimm sat a few meters ahead on a very solid seat and read in the newspaper. The Daily Bugle alread had a headline, reading “Have we finally got rid of Spider-Man?”

Their “bite to eat” which was intended to be a short snack and which ended into ordering pizza for all five inhabitants of the Baxter Building lasted until now. Aunt May had shown up and brought Peter clothes and laundry, but right now, Peter and Johnny sat on the sofa and had been talking for more than two hours about all this weird stuff that certainly had something to do with being a superhero. While Johnny had laid his arm a few centimeter behind Peter's head on the back of the couch, Peter had positioned his feet on the table and hadn't turned his head off Johnny's clear blue eyes at anytime. Peter wouldn't have minded to go outside and do a bit of crime fighting with his new acquaintance but Mr. Richards had insisted that he should stay at the Building for further supervision.

Peter just wanted to start his story as he fought against Black Panther and his bossy mutant girlfriend as Ben Grimm turned his head towards the two of them and said: “Sue told me that you should be in bed by ten, Spidey. It's already half an hour ahead.”

“Oh, Ben, you can't be serious,” Johnny said. “You don't wanna tell me that our guest has to go at bed at half past ten! I'm sure if he were crime-fighting he wouldn't be in bed anytime earlier.”

Ben Grimm's face didn't move. He didn't smile nor made any facial expression that would at least sign a glimpse of sleaziness. Thus, Peter considered his request to be a serious one and strechted himself.

“Nevermind, Johnny...I think I should go to bed.”

“Wow, what? You know I'm about to win this fight for you, don't you?”

“The fight hasn't really started,” Ben remarked. “Peter understands, so there is no discussion.”

Peter got up the couch and took his glass of water. “I think you wouldn't mind if I do a bit of reading?”

“As long as you pretend to be sleeping when Sue and Reed come back from the meeting at Stark Industries...,” Ben Grimm said and looked at his newspaper again at the moment Johnny stood up too. Peter looked at him with something he considered to show a confused glance but smiled at the blonde fellow and turned to the door.

“Yeah, if you want to go to bed, Pete, why not. Next time, Ben, I will win the argument.”

The moment Johnny started to move, Ben made another remark Peter was able to hear as he approached his room.

“Maybe. How about that: why do you stand there? I'm sure Spider-Man is brave enough to go at bed alone without you drawing the blanket above him, Johnny.”

“Shut up, Ben!”

***

As Peter had put on the pajama and had pulled _The Children of Men_ out of his bag, he laid himself on the tiny but very comfortable bed and started to read the second chapter of the novel; it had to be given back to Gwen about three weeks ago, so starting it seemed to be the right idea. At this moment, he looked out for his mobile phone which started to ring a second later – and a great thanks to his Spider Sense. He finally found it under the folder with his biology material and saw that he had received a text message. Well, one wasn't enough. At least twenty seemed to be an appropriate number.

One was from Gwen – “Hey, Pete, Harry told me about your stay at the hospital. Call me anytime – how about Harry and me showing up maybe tomorrow?” – and the nineteen left were from Harry. They started with “Hey, Pete, I'm sorry for last night. How are you? Can I e-mail your homework or wouldn't this work? plz mb soon, Harry.” and continued with “Pete, why aren't you answering? Has something happened? mb.”. Then, the tone became more desperate – “Pete, what's up? Have I done anything wrong? I'm worried” – and turned into a more critical topics as the one he received now: “Oh, come on, please, I know you are angry at me but what can I do to show you I'm sorry? Please, you're my best friend, don't want to lose you.”

Peter didn't read them all – his conscience was too bad after spending the whole day with Johnny without thinking even about any of his friend's back home at any moment. After answering Gwen's message, he turned the mobile phone off and slipped under the covers again.

He slept only mere seconds later.

***

As it turned out, Sue and Reed didn't arrive until eleven and didn't arrive until twelve, so Johnny spent much time on changing channels and thinking about remarks to tell Ben how ugly he really is but he couldn't focus on anything as the nice laughter Peter had filled his ears and memories with after all those funny stories Johnny had tried to impress him with. Gorgeous wasn't the proper term to describe Johnny but his vocabulary couldn't provide him with something more appropriate. Cute...nah...sweet...no, to classic...lovely...way to simple. How about flawless...?

He gave up right now – he wasn't supposed to write a poem about his feelings for Peter, so he stood up and got himself a glass of water at the water dispenser on the other side of the room.

“What's on the news, you stupid stone ball?” he asked.

“Start reading it yourself – oh, wait....it would incinerate with your first touch, nah?” Ben remarked.

“Wanna try with you first? Maybe there is something that could burn after your eyebrows aren't there anymore.”

“I'm mildly surprised that Peter didn't incinerated as you touched him.”

Johnny's expression froze, blood rushed up in his veines and he simply stated: “I didn't touch him anytime.”

“This reminds me of another thing Sue wanted me to tell you. He's still a minor, so keep your hands to yourself, my friend,” Ben said. “At least until he is not that young anymore.”

“Whataya mean he is 'still a minor'? He's eighteen, isn't he?”

“Uhm, sorry to disappoint you. He still got some months left.”

“Wah, shut up, Ben.”

***

Some of the essays Emma Frost's students gave up about the ethics behind telepathy were so brilliant by language and argumentation that she had suspicions that they had entered the mind of other students to gain access to such a diversity of speech but the one she was currently working on reminded there that at least there were some of them left who really got the gist of her teaching. The essay of Martha Johansson was honest and simply-written, even though it was not as brilliant as the one her five Stepford Cuckoos had submitted.

Before she was able to read the last paragraph, the phone rang. She lifted it into the air with the bit of her telekinesis and answered it with her usual catch-phrase: “Emma Frost, current co-headmisstres of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. How can I be of any assistance?”

“Hello, Miss Frost. We haven't spoken yet but I am Reed Richards. I'm in charge of a group of meta-humans known as the Fantastic Four.”

Emma frowned for a moment and hesitated the answer, but then, said: “Hello, Mr. Richards. How can I be of any assistance to you?”

“I have some questions concerning telepathy and would ask you for help, if you don't mind.”

“Only if I will be mentioned in your Novel Prize speech, Mr. Richards.” Emma tried to suppress the sarcastic undertone of her remark but wasn't sure whether it worked or not.

“I think we can arrange that.”

“You want to ask me. So do it.”

“Would you agree that one can recognize with a brain scan that a certain mind has currently been influenced by a telepath, Miss Frost?”

Emma leaned back, then answered: “Of course. We've made some research in class about this.”

“Would you also agree that it is possible to see an unique signature left behind that would make it possible to identify the telepath who had been working on this certain mind?”

Emma didn't like the direction this talk was going into but nevertheless answered with a teasingly friendly: “Yes. That's proven fact as well”

“So, I am sure that you can tell me why the mind of my wife, my brother-in-law and Spider-Man has currently been influenced by the same mind over the course of the last three weeks, Miss Frost? Of course, the fact why I am able to measure remnants of brain waves emitted by your well-known device _Cerebra_ two nights ago which belong to the same telepath that worked on the minds I spoke of?”

“What do you want, Richards? A confession?”

“That would work – yes.”

“Well, let's just say that I did some _minor_ adjustments on them. Don't worry, they are still the same. I must admit that I nevertheless found some things _worth_ changing, so...”

“This means that you are responsible for the breakdown Spider-Man had a few nights ago?”

“Let's just say – I'm aware of it and sent your brother-in-law to Mister Parker's location to ensure his safety.”

“You didn't...stick your telepathic fingers into Parker's mind to cause the breakdown?” Reed's voice sounded more than skeptical and Emma couldn't mind because if she had been in his position, she would be skeptical as well.

“I tried to help him, that for sure, which is also the reason why I sent Mr. Storm out to help him. But nothing else. My integrity is a level above this kind of things. I tend to work in much more...subtle ways. Telepaths are supposed to be watchers.”

“But you do admit that you wiped a memory out of Sue's mind?”

“Where am I? SHIELD interrogation? It's not like they can keep me.”

“Answer my question, Miss Frost. I only need to push one number on my phone to call Professor X instead.”

“Well, it was a very delicate information about the...feelings Mr. Storm currently has for a certain person which is sister was to be unaware of. I simply erased the memory of a remark, nothing important.”

“I see. Well, thank you very much...your questions will help me with the current anti-telepathy-device Stark Industries asked me to develop.”

Emma felt the need to chuckle at Mr. Richard's statement, but remained friendly and assured him that he can call her anytime if he wanted.

“Oh, and by the way – how are Mr. Storm and Mr. Parker going?”

“Well...that's none of your concern, Miss Frost.”

“You know that I can find out anyway.”

“We'll see.”

***

“So...here we are,” Johnny said as he stopped the car.

“Yeah...probably.” Peter looked out of the window and saw Aunt May's house, _his_ house – for now, at least. Then, he looked behind and saw his two bags on the rear seat of the car before he turned his head again and looked in Johnny's eyes. The lightning of the thunderstorm outside mirrored in his pupils. “Good to be back home.”

“Well, you can come back anytime you want,” Johnny said. “Just sling by. You're welcome to join us in any fight any time you want.”

“I know. I'll call you if I need help handling Vulpture and Doc Oc.”

“You got my mobile number and I got yours...'course.”

“I will write you tomorrow, I promise. We can telephone in the evening when my homework is done.”

“I hope that you are not one of these guys who don't call back.”

“You're teasing me again.”

“I'm not! I'm bare my soul to you, believe me, Pete!”

Peter rolled his eyes and turned his head towards Aunt May's...Uncle Ben's house and sighed.

“What's up?”

“Memories.”

“I see.” Johnny laid his right hand on Peter's thigh and started stroking him.

“You ought to.”

“Well...Sue wanted me to remind you that if you have an problems in biology, now or when you go to college next term, you can call her anytime. Same goes for Reed but I think you can ask him … about anything else.”

“They...told me so. But what about Ben?”

“Well, he said something about that it would be nice to have you again for a coffee.”

Peter smiled and nodded his head slightly. “That could work well. And what is about you?”

“I … saved the very best for the end.”

Johnny leaned forward, his left hand catching the back of Peter's head and pulling him close. When he pushed his head slightly towards his, their lips met above the gearshift leveler. As he pushed Peter's head closer to his, Johnny pressed his tongue further into his mouth and licked Peter's front teeth tentatively until he was able to approach Peter's tongue and to feel the younger man's hand on his stomach.

He had imagined this many times during Peter's stay at Baxter Building. He had imagined that Peter would pull back and leave the car while screaming insults. Then, he had imagined that Peter wouldn't really react at all, would be too embarrassed and/or surprised to speak to him again. This, he had also imagined, their tongues encircling each other and slightly fighting about the domination of this first kiss; it had been his favourite imagination, even though he had spared out the details. The smell of Peter's breath – the vanilla milk shake was still in there – and the feeling of his hand stroking his stomach.

Peter finally withdrew, both their hand's returned to the place where they belonged but the looks stayed there for the moment. He left Johnny's car without any other word, going out into the rain whereas Johnny waited until he had entered the house. He somehow felt satisfied with himself. The last time he had dealt with any of the undeniable great number of girlfriends Ben had always teased him about seemed to be years away and this, sitting here in car in front of Peter's house, felt more than right.

Nothing really mattered anymore. Except Peter, of course.

 _Oh, and Miss Frost...if you are currently online...thank you_ indeed _very much._

 _Don't mention it_ , the reply came.


End file.
